


Powerless, And I Don't Care

by DontLetHimGo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (a little), (it's brief and happens near the beginning), (read the author's note about it please :)), (sort of), Anal Sex, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Misfits!AU, POV Alternating, Pining, Smut, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 19:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3581685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontLetHimGo/pseuds/DontLetHimGo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Why?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Louis' eyebrows furrow together. “Why what?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Why doesn't it work?"</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>A cold wind blows past the two of them, ruffling Louis' fringe and brushing a loose strand to the front of Harry's face. Louis' mouth turns dry as he goes over what Harry's just asked him, trying to pick apart the tone and telling himself that it wasn't one of disappointment.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Do you...” Louis clears his throat. “Do you want it to work?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Harry bites his lip and moves closer. His eyes shift between Louis' lips and eyes slowly.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Louis is sure that his heart is trying to beat out the melody to 'Flight of the Bumblebee'.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I don’t know...would it be something to remember?” </i>
</p>
<p>Or an AU where they find themselves with superpowers, and Louis is Harry's Kryptonite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Powerless, And I Don't Care

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! It's been a while :)
> 
> I apologise for this not being the next chapter of Call It Magic - it will be here soon...hopefully. 
> 
> So this is kinda inspired by [Misfits](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Misfits_%28TV_series%29), but only really because of Harry's power, which is the same as one of the characters in the series :)  
> Yes, Attempted Sexual Assault is in the tags. This happens near the beginning of the fic and is mentioned again a bit later on. If you'd like to know more specifically, feel free to get in touch on my [Tumblr](http://truthtattoos.tumblr.com/ask) and I'll let you know what parts to avoid :) Please don't read if the idea of it makes you uncomfortable/triggers you though!
> 
> (The smut is also smuttier than what I normally write...I don't really know what to think of it tbh.)
> 
> Title shamelessly from No Control, 'cause...reasons.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction and this work is completely fictional.
> 
> This is a work written by myself, and I do not wish for it to be posted elsewhere. Even if you give me credit, I would much prefer that it stay here on ao3 and on my tumblr only. Thank you!
> 
> EDIT 21/03/2015: I have made a few tiny changes - nothing too major!

“I’ve decided that this is all very unfair.”

Both Niall and Zayn look up from the floor with raised eyebrows, Niall clutching a packet of Walkers crisps to his chest and Zayn hovering a pencil above the sketchpad in front of him. Harry knows what they’re asking (even though he’s _not_ the one that’s telepathic).

“We were all out there when it happened; we all got zapped, or whatever _that_ was...why is it only me that doesn’t have anything cool?” he complains, flopping down onto the sofa and leaning into Louis’ side, smiling to himself when the older boy wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“I’m sure you’ll find out what it is eventually, H,” Louis assures.

Niall’s eyes suddenly widen. “Hey, what if it’s something like invincibility or immortality or summat?”

“I don’t think I really want to test that theory, thanks,” Harry replies slowly.

“I was just sayin’.” Niall shrugs. “Does anyone want some crisps?”

 

♣

 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Harry giggles, throwing his arm out to grab onto the bar next to him. “I need to pee first!”

Niall shakes his head, shoving the vodka-red bull into Harry’s free hand. “Drink up!”

After slamming the glass down, Harry stumbles forward, pointing a crooked finger into Niall's face. “Oh, but your power isn’t persuasion, Nail-file.”

“Well, no, but—”

“Just let him go for a piss, Jesus,” Louis finally cuts in, steering Harry away from Niall’s complaints and pushing him gently towards the toilets.

Harry presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “I really do love you; you know that, Lou?”

“Mhmm.”

 

It’s only when Harry has finished at the urinal and turned back to the sinks that he notices the toilet attendant standing beside them. He startles a little before flashing a small grin, making his way over to wash his hands and wondering why the four of them decided to listen to Liam’s suggestion for the first club. There are a ridiculous amount of soaps, and Harry thinks it might be a bit _too_ fancy.

“A towel for you, sir?” the attendant suddenly asks, and Harry realises that the water has turned off and there is a piece of blue, fluffy material being held out to him.

“Um,” Harry clears his throat, “thank you.” He quickly dries his hands and gives the towel back, and it’s then that everything seems to happen at once.

Their hands brush.

The towel falls.

The toilet attendant...well, for lack of a better verb, the toilet attendant _pounces_.

Harry is suddenly pushed up against the sinks, scrawny but strong body of the other man pressed up against him, hard-on already very obvious through his black formal chinos.

“God, I want you. Fuck, I want you _so bad_ ,” he mumbles as he practically humps Harry’s thigh and knots his hands in Harry’s hair.

Harry feels like all of the air has been knocked out of him; he feels like he can’t breathe, let alone speak, and for the first time of the night, he feels very much sober. After a moment, his thoughts seem to kick in however, and he starts to struggle.

“Oh, you like it rough, do you? I’m sure I can give you rough,” the attendant growls, taking Harry’s hands from where they’re gripping the edge of the sink and forcing them behind his back until Harry lets out a yelp. “Yeah, that’s right.”

The door flies open then, and Harry immediately turns to the sound, his body relaxing a little in relief when he sees that it’s Louis.

“Let go of him,” the boy in the doorway demands, continuing when his words don’t seem to have any effect. “Didn’t you hear me, arsehole? Get the fuck off him!”

Harry keeps trying to wriggle out of the other man’s grip, looking at Louis pleadingly as lips latch onto his neck and a hand reaches down to the buckle of his belt.

Louis’ eyes narrow and he takes the final step towards them, reaching out and grabbing onto the attendant’s arm. “I’m only going to ask one more fucking time.”

There is no reaction to Louis’ final warning; it’s almost as if the toilet attendant can’t see or feel Louis’ presence—it’s almost as if Harry has invaded and completely taken over his senses.

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry whimpers, feeling the panic within him creeping up into his throat and forming a lump.

Seconds later, Harry feels himself slipping down to the floor, his eyes blurring with frightened tears as he watches Louis shove the attendant to the ground, spitting threats over him and resting a foot in the centre of the other man’s chest.

“I’m sorry, man; I don’t know what’s happened...whatever it is, I didn’t mean it, just please let me go, okay? We’ll forget about it, yeah?” The toilet attendant is shakily firing out words at a hundred miles an hour, trying to shuffle out from underneath Louis’ shoe. “Can we please just...not worry?”

Harry can see how the sole of Louis’ Van is pressing harder onto the attendant’s sternum. “I really don’t think we can, mate.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“You sexually assaulted someone,” Louis growls, and even Harry feels nervous from his anger. “Do you really think I should let that go?”

“Um, I, um--”

“Just leave it, Lou,” Harry finally squeaks, reaching up to hold onto the sink for support as he stands. “I don’t think he knew what he was doing.”

Two pairs of eyes turn to Harry: one cautiously grateful, the other still steely.

“How the fuck could he not have known?”

Harry’s eyes meet those of the man still lying on the ground before returning to Louis’. “Can we please just leave it? I think we should go home.”

There’s a moment when Louis looks like he’s about to disagree and continue threatening the toilet attendant, but then his shoulders sag and he finally removes his foot, stepping back and wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist.

“Okay, love. Let’s find the others.”

 

♣

 

“And it was definitely the toilet attendant?” Niall asks slowly as he kicks his feet up to rest on the coffee table.

“Well, he offered me a towel and was wearing some sort of uniform, so I think so.”

“He seemed a bit scrawny for an attacker,” Louis comments, playing with the hem of Harry’s t-shirt.

“As I said,” Harry reminds, “I don’t think it was planned.”

“So you honestly think the guy saw you, and in that instant decided he was going to fuck you?”

Harry flinches at the blunt phrasing of Louis’ sentence, but sighs and stands up from the sofa. “Look, I have an idea, okay? Trust me on this.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Harry takes a small step towards the chair where Niall is sat and reaches out with his hand, letting it fall onto Niall’s shoulder and bracing himself.

Barely a second passes before Niall grabs the hand on his shoulder and twists in his seat, eyes narrow, dark and entirely fixed on Harry. “Fuck, I just wanna rip your clothes off right here. I wonder how many times I could make you--”

Harry's pulled backwards then, falling onto the sofa and watching Niall slump into the cushions.

“What the fuck, Niall?” Louis exclaims, holding Harry close to him protectively, his arms crossed over Harry's torso.

Niall's eyes are wide and his skin has turned pale as he blinks owlishly at Harry and Louis. “I don't understand.”

“That's it,” Harry says. “It's my power.”

There's silence as the four other boys in the room process what Harry has just said, and it's Zayn who puts the final puzzle piece in its place.

“Your power is to be able to make anyone want to sleep with you?”

Harry shrugs. “Pretty much.”

“But, it can't work on just anyone, surely,” Louis mumbles, “because I'm touching you right now.”

_That's a point._

Louis is touching him right now; almost every part of their bodies are pressed together – which is normal for them really – but why hasn't that had any effect on him?

Niall suddenly bursts out laughing. “Well, you know what you two are like! Louis probably doesn’t even know how to be sexually attracted to you, H.”

Harry scowls, probably mirroring a similar expression on Louis' face (neither of them will ever find Niall's jokes about their closeness humorous) but thinks that it's also another good point. What if this power only affects those who would even look twice at him anyway? That would at least make  _some_ things a bit easier. His stomach flutters worriedly at the thought of never being able to hug any of his family or friends ever again, and sometimes you just can't avoid shaking someone's hand. Would he even be able to hold his own children in his arms? The thought of that not being a possibility makes a lump form in his throat.

He moves out of Louis' embrace, walking across the room to where Liam is sat, mostly silent, hands twitching in his lap. After giving him a look to ask if it's okay, Harry takes one of the hands in his.

“I could take you on the floor right now, you know. Show everyone here how I can be your Daddy—”

“Okay, I think that's enough for to—God, _fuck_ , let's do it. Come on, I know you want it as much as I do—”

Louis eventually intervenes then, pulling Liam and Zayn both off Harry. “Let's just set a rule that the only one to get anywhere near Harry is me, okay?”

Harry just swallows and lets himself be moved away from his friends, his heart plummeting to his feet.

If he ever had a choice, he never would have wished for a superpower like this.  

 

♠

 

It doesn't take long for each of the five of them to start using their newfound powers in everyday life. Louis no longer has to use doors, or stairs, or anything really. Niall quickly becomes the new friend to call if you have a problem, because it's guaranteed that he'll be there in about ten seconds. Liam starts making everything static in the house, meaning Louis is even more grateful that he no longer needs to use door handles and can just watch everybody else being shocked instead. Zayn turns quiet; helpless to listening in to every thought of those around him, and only speaking when entirely necessary, which seems to worry everyone...but not quite as much as Louis worries about Harry.

Louis feels guilty for worrying as much as he does; it's not as if he's Harry's keeper or whatever, it's just that Harry is his best friend, and he knows that when Harry leaves the house, he's in danger of being attacked by anyone who might just bump into him in the street.

The thought of it sickens him.

He keeps remembering the sound Harry made when that toilet attendant pushed him too far; the sound that made enough fury burn in his veins to finally enter the bathroom and see what was going on. From there, he can't stop thinking about the way the stranger was forcing himself onto a boy that looked completely helpless and lost. It was just sick, and wrong, and...possibly happening again right now.

Louis' over at the key bowl in seconds, shoving his wallet into his back pocket and taking both his house and car keys.

“Where are you going?” a voice suddenly asks, and Louis sees that Niall has appeared at the top of the stairs, sleepily wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Out,” Louis replies simply, turning back to the door.

“You know, Harry's twenty-one.” Niall is suddenly in front of Louis, separating him from the door. “He doesn't need you with him all the time.”

Taken aback by Niall's bluntness, Louis pauses. “I know that.”

“Then where are you going?”

Louis slumps, leaning against the wall of the hallway. “I care about him, Niall.”

“Don't we all?”

After a moment when there is no answer to Niall's rhetorical question, he continues.

“Why doesn't his power work on you?”

Louis shrugs, dropping the keys back in the bowl in a form of admitting defeat. “Am I supposed to know that?”

Niall raises his eyebrows. “I think you know.”

Of course Louis has an idea why Harry's power doesn't work on him, but in his head it always sounds ridiculous and pathetic and...dare he say it, _fairtytale-ish_.

“There are a couple of possibilities I've considered,” Louis eventually mumbles.

“You think it's fate and destiny and shit, right?”

“Well, I...”

“You think that, if these powers are permanent, Harry won't ever be able to get into a serious relationship. You think that you're the only one he could ever be with.”

Louis bites his lip to stop himself from adding anything else, embarrassed that it sounds even more pathetic now it's been said aloud. Niall's right; he has this little wish that them getting these powers was fate, and that it would finally bring he and Harry together in the way that he's wanted since secondary school. It's all pretty ridiculous, really.

Before Niall can say anymore to add to Louis' humiliation – or Louis can even _think_ about defending himself – the door opens and it's Harry on the other side, smiling at each of them cautiously.

“Hiiii,” he drawls awkwardly, waving his hand a little. “You guys still up?”

“I'm about to go to bed,” Louis replies, looking at Niall for a moment before turning to the boy in the doorway. “Nice night?”

Harry shrugs. “It was alright.”

There's a sudden loud exclamation, and it's coming out of Niall's mouth. “You've shagged someone!”

Harry's eyes widen for a second before he coughs and shrugs again.

“Did they even know what was going on?”

A startled laugh bursts from between Harry's lips. “I'm not one to kiss and tell, Ni.”

Louis feels a weird knot of some sort tying tighter and tighter in his stomach. Sure, Louis knows of people who go out almost every weekend to bring someone home, have sex with them, and then probably never see them again, but Harry's just not that sort of person. At all.

But then again, that's none of Louis' business.

 

♠

 

“Ready, steady...go!”

Niall has already disappeared before Louis can even think, but as soon as it kicks in, he feels his feet leaving the floor, and he's levitating towards the ceiling. When he's through the floor and upstairs, Niall isn't there, and Louis knows he has lost as he drops back to the ground floor again.

“I told you he's faster,” he says, perching on the arm of the sofa.

Niall raises his eyebrows. “Bet you can't guess how many times I got upstairs and back down again in the time it took you to do it once.”

“Well—”

Louis' answer is cut off by the sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table.

Zayn leans over to look at the screen. “It's Harry. Should I answer it?”

The phone is in Louis' hand before anyone else can react.

“H?”

“Um, no; it's Nick. Harry told me to ring you.”

Panic bubbles into Louis' throat, immediately assuming the worst as he turns away from the others. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, yeah – just had a bit too much to drink, and I don't think a taxi is the best idea...”

“I'll be there.”

 

_“Wouldn't it be nice if we were olderrrrrrr, then we wouldn't have to wait so longggg...”_

Louis bats Harry's hand away from the volume dial, shaking his head fondly. “Beautiful, Harold. Remind me why you never went on the X-Factor?”

“Because I didn't _have_ the X-Factor,” Harry slurs, poking Louis in the thigh. “You do though – people are stupid.”

“Cheers, love.”

Louis parks up on the driveway, turning off the engine and telling Harry to wait so he could help him inside. Of course, Harry being Harry, he jumps straight out the other side, making Louis rush round to grab onto him.

“You can barely walk in a straight line when you're sober, Haz – be careful.”

When Louis goes to take the next step forward, he realises that Harry has frozen to the spot, his eyes focused on where Louis' hand is holding onto his arm.

“What's up?”

The sound of Louis' voice seems to jerk Harry out of his trance, and his eyes move to Louis' face instead.

“Why?”

Louis' eyebrows furrow together. “Why what?”

“Why doesn't it work?”

A cold wind blows past the two of them, ruffling Louis' fringe and brushing a loose strand to the front of Harry's face. Louis' mouth turns dry as he goes over what Harry's just asked him, trying to pick apart the tone and telling himself that it wasn't one of disappointment.

“Do you...” Louis clears his throat. “Do you _want_ it to work?”

Harry bites his lip and moves closer. His eyes shift between Louis' lips and eyes slowly.

Louis is sure that his heart is trying to beat out the melody to ' _Flight of the Bumblebee_ '.

“I don't know...would it be something to remember?” Harry breathes, bringing his other hand up to the back of Louis' head, knotting his fingers into the older boy's hair.

Louis feels his eyes slipping closed as Harry's contrastingly warm breath brushes against his lips. His thoughts are muddled, and he struggles to bring forward the correct answer in his mind.

“We shouldn't.”

Louis opens his eyes in time to see Harry pulling back sharply, letting go of Louis completely.

“Yeah, I understand,” he's saying. “Sorry.”

“No.” Louis reaches out and grabs onto the sleeve of Harry's jacket. “I don't mean...I don't want you to regret anything, that's all. When you drink, you regret – generally speaking.”

“When _I_ drink,” Harry replies, “I tell the truth.”

Louis sighs. “I'm sure if you got me drunk enough, I would tell you the truth.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, his lips pressed together in a cautious smile. “And that is...?”

“Ha, nice try.” Louis cups Harry's cheek in his palm, watching how Harry automatically leans into the touch. “I'll tell you when we're sober.”

“But—”

“Come on, bedtime.”

 

♣

 

When Harry wakes up the next morning, his eyes open to tiny slits before he scrunches them shut again.

Since when has his room been so _bright?_

Shuffling under the duvet, he covers his face before trying to open his eyes again without his head exploding. Because it is much more dim under there, his eyes no longer sting, but that's not what he focuses on.

There is somebody else in bed with him.

It is undoubtedly a male back that he can see, with not a scrap of material covering it, and it certainly isn't what Harry was expecting to find in his bed. Not once since he's discovered his power has he slept with anyone...and he's particularly certain he didn't have sex last night.

_Then who...?_

The person clears their throat and rolls over, leaving Harry staring at a stomach which shouldn’t be as familiar as it is. Harry wiggles up the bed a little and finds the words he was expecting to see written across this person’s collarbones.

_It Is What It Is._

Harry swallows, edging his way out from underneath the covers and off the bed. He can only thank the Lord that Louis wasn’t cuddling him like he normally does when they sleep together...except that just adds another question onto his list.

When he reaches the kitchen, he’s grateful to see that no one else is around as he gets out two mugs and clicks the kettle on. As it boils and he drops tea-bags and spoons sugar into the mugs on autopilot, he racks his brain for any memories from the previous night. He can’t even remember getting home and _that’s not good_.

“Oh, you’re up.”

Harry jumps at the sound and turns to face Louis, who is stood in the doorway wearing an unzipped hoodie and a tired facial expression.

“You okay?”

It takes a moment for Harry to register that Louis is in fact talking to him, but he eventually shrugs and turns back to the mugs. “I’ve been better.”

“You did seem a bit out of it when we got back,” Louis comments.

_So Louis brought him home?_

“Nick called me,” Louis continues as if he’d heard Harry’s train of thought. “So I picked you up, drove you home and…” He trails off to an incomprehensible muttering.

Harry frowns into the mug of tea he’s stirring, confused by Louis’ explanation.

And then it hits him like a double decker bus.

“Did we have sex last night?” he asks monotonously, unmoving where he stares at the cupboards in his eyeline.

There’s a pause that seems to drag on for hours, and every passing second has his stomach in tighter knots. He doesn’t entirely know what answer he _wants_ to hear from Louis. Surely he wants it to be ‘no’. _Surely_.

“No.”

A combination of emotions washes over Harry; a cocktail of relief and disappointment is injected into his blood as he finally unfreezes and turns around to hand Louis his mug of tea.

“No?” he asks, attempting a jokey tone, but it comes out much too shaky.

The corner of Louis’ lips quirks up in a smirk. “Not the answer you were expecting?”

Harry shrugs and leans back against the counter, quickly adjusting his position when he realises it’s his flirty stance.

There’s another break in conversation which Harry has no idea how to fill, and just as he thinks about coming up with some sort of random fact about tea, or milk, or bananas, Louis puts his mug on the kitchen table and takes a step further into the kitchen.

“Your incredible powers of seduction don’t work on everyone, Harold.” He bites his lip. “Unfortunately.”

Harry swallows. “ _Un_ fortunately?”

“Well, that seemed to be your opinion on the matter with what you were saying last night…”

_Fuck._

“What did I say?”

Louis reaches out and tucks a curl behind Harry’s ear. “I reckon that’s for me to know, and for you to find out.”  
  


♣

 

“What could I have possibly said to make him act like that?”

Niall finally settles on some sort of American comedy show that Harry couldn’t name. “Act like what? You always flirt with each other.”

Harry scoffs. “No we don’t.”

“What do you call it then? The language of Dude-Pal?”

Harry doesn’t reply and snuggles further into the cushions of the sofa.

Him and Louis don’t _flirt_.

Sure, they’ve always been close, and Harry has always had a lingering thought of ‘ _what if?_ ’ in the back of his mind...But he’s learnt to mostly forget about that; locking it away in a drawer and trying to find someone else to fill the space - which should only have been made easier by his newfound superpower.

Well, that’s what some people would probably think. 

Really, relationships mean so much more to him. He wants commitment, and love, and loyalty (and marriage, and kids, and a golden retriever, and...)

Anyway, he just can’t have that anymore. Not when every person he touches wants him for sex and only sex, leaving him afterwards and forgetting.

It hurts.

And yet, who is the one person that could give him everything he wants in a relationship?

_Louis._

To Harry, that’s certainly not a bad thing.

In fact, it’s a pretty fucking perfect thing.

 

♣

 

The silence filling the house almost seems like it’s waiting for something to happen; pausing in anticipation of change.

Or maybe that’s just how Harry feels as he waits for Louis to get home.

It already feels like hours since Harry sat down at the kitchen table, head in his hands and numerous possibilities for what he could say running through his mind. Niall left just over half an hour ago with a knowing expression plastered across his features when Harry explained that he and Louis ‘needed to talk’. Since then, Harry’s been left with enough time to think about the previous evening and this morning, putting together his limited memories and Louis’ words to guess at what he could’ve possibly said.

Essentially, he’s at least eighty-five percent certain that he hit on Louis last night.

Another, larger percentage of him also believes he may have been turned down.

After that, he has no other ideas.

The sound of the front door opening and closing pulls Harry away from his thoughts as he steels himself for the appearance of his best friend round the doorway. It happens mere seconds later.

“Oh, hi Haz,” Louis greets, smiling. “The others out?”

Harry feels his throat turn dry as he nods in lieu of a spoken answer, quickly standing to fill up a glass of water from the tap.

“Are you okay?” Louis’ asking, and _God_ , the sound of his concerned voice makes Harry’s heart _ache_. “You look a bit peaky.”

Harry manages to gulp down half of the glass before he raises an eyebrow and croaks, “Thanks.”

Louis chuckles, reaching a hand up to Harry’s face before pausing and dropping it back to his side. He sighs. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

There’s a second before Harry reacts in the way he knows that he needs to. “Lou, wait.” He reaches out for the hem of Louis’ jumper and tugs at it, causing the other boy to look over his shoulder, an unreadable expression on his face.

“What’s up?” he whispers, almost as if he knows what conversation is about to happen.

Harry swallows. “You said you’d tell me when we’re sober.”

The phrase had been stuck in his mind from the previous evening, but it had been with a severe lack of context. Harry still has no idea what the comment may have been about―other than his guesses at it being part of a rejection―but he just hopes that it’s the right thing to say.

“You remember that?” Louis enquires, a tad shakily.

“I don’t really remember much else,” Harry explains, “but I think I want to know―now that we are sober, I mean.”

Louis is still half turned away from Harry, and his eyes fall to where Harry’s grip has loosened on the material of his jumper before he’s stepping closer and lifting his gaze to meet Harry’s. Just as Harry thinks Louis is simply going to say something ridiculous like, “I was the one who washed all of your white shirts with my Man U top,” or, “I was the one who fed your muesli to Niall’s budgie,”, there are fingers knotted into the curls at the nape of his neck and he’s being pulled down until his nose is brushing lightly against Louis’. He barely has time to register that, however, because Louis lips are slotting together with his and his stomach is swooping and he feels like his knees are buckling a little bit. He sighs into the kiss when everything clicks, reaching down and cupping Louis’ arse to lift him into his arms. A sound rumbles in Louis’ throat as he wraps his legs around Harry’s waist, pulling away after a moment and clearing his throat.

“Well, that escalated quickly.”

Harry giggles and turns around, gently placing Louis on the kitchen side with Louis’ legs still wrapped around him. “Is that what we needed to be sober for?”

Louis shrugs, playing with Harry’s hair where his hands are still tangled in it at the back. “I think we both knew it was coming.”

“You’re not the one who can read minds,” Harry points out, failing to hide the smile on his face.

“But Zayn can.” Louis smirks.

“You cheated!”

Louis kisses Harry quiet, swallowing his complaints and digging his heels into Harry’s bum. Harry groans, a tad overwhelmed as his hands scrabble at Louis’ clothes. Only now does he realise just how long he’s wanted this.

Louis pulls away, only to mouth at Harry’s jaw and then mumble, “Please, can we just―?”

Harry gulps, pulling Louis face back to his and muttering, “Okay,” against his lips.

Louis legs wrap tighter around him, and Harry makes sure he has a good grip on the older boy before he’s lifting him into his arms once again and stumbling over to the door.

“Shit; please don’t drop me,” Louis says worriedly, leaning back from Harry to look behind him.

Harry rolls his eyes, trying not to question whether it really is a good idea for him to be carrying someone up a set of stairs. “I’m not gonna drop you; Christ,” he replies unconvincingly.

Louis shrugs and leans in again, nibbling on Harry’s lower lip for a second. “‘Cause that would really kill the mood.”

_No pressure then._

 

♠

 

Louis can’t help but smile up at Harry from where he’s lying on the bed (that he’s just been unceremoniously dumped onto).

“Sapped you of your strength, have I?” Louis asks cheekily, raising a challenging eyebrow.

Harry returns the grin and flops onto the mattress beside him, responding by leaning in and connecting their lips once again, mumbling, “Never.”

Louis licks into the other boy’s mouth, rolling on top of him and pawing at his shirt, fingers fiddling with the top button. Harry tastes like tea and peppermint chewing gum, and even though Louis’ never liked the taste of those shitty herbal teas Harry drinks, the combination of the two flavours may already be a favourite of his.

“Mmm...Lou?” Harry breathes against Louis’ cheek.

“Yeah?”

“Can I suck you off?”

Louis practically feels himself growing harder in the confines of his jeans before he’s pushing Harry’s shirt off his shoulders and sitting back on his haunches, straddling the younger boy’s waist.

Still not having received an answer, Harry looks straight up at Louis and whimpers, “Lou?”

“Patience, darling.”

Harry whines as Louis unfastens his jeans and tugs them down his thighs, doing the same to his own afterwards and dragging his t-shirt up over his head. Harry immediately reaches up, just to run a hand down Louis’ chest and stomach, stopping when he reaches the waistband of Louis’ boxers and looking up questioningly. Instead of answering, Louis leans down and captures Harry’s lips with his own again, pulling more beautiful sounds from him and loving every single one.

One of Harry’s hands is still holding the elastic of Louis’ boxers, and he moans out a, “Please, Lou!” when Louis’ lips latch onto the side of his neck.

“Don’t have to ask permission, love,” Louis mumbles against the skin, pausing in the process of creating a mark that will be hard to hide tomorrow.

Harry’s hand finally takes hold of Louis’ cock, and he rubs his thumb backwards and forwards across the tip. Louis finally has to pull back as he cries out, his fingers tightening in Harry’s hair as he tugs lightly.

All of a sudden, it seems like Harry loses any patience he may have had left, as he rolls the two of them over and moves down Louis’ body, finally taking him into his mouth. Louis throws his head back in ecstasy, the tugging in his abdomen intensifying as he reminds himself that this is _actually happening_.

“ _Harry!_ ” he moans loudly, biting his lip immediately after the sound left his mouth.

Harry looks up at him through his eyelashes, only pulling off his cock to point out, “No one’s home—be as loud as you want.”

Unable to move his eyes away from Harry’s flushed cheeks and swollen, red lips, Louis keeps his head up—until Harry takes him back into his mouth and dips his head right down, swallowing around Louis’ cock when it hits the back of his throat.

Moaning out the occasional profanity mixed in with Harry’s name, Louis soon feels the tell-tale pull that means his orgasm is approaching. He knots his fingers into Harry’s hair and tugs, hoping that it is the right approach to get him to stop.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

Harry groans loudly and sucks even harder, his tongue swirling around the tip as his fingers dig into Louis’ hip. (Louis absently hopes that he wakes up with bruises tomorrow.)

“ _Ah_...Harry, baby, I need to—you need to…”  
Harry pulls off with a pop, raising his eyebrows at Louis. “Huh?” he asks dazedly. His eyes are glassy and there’s a drop of precome on his lower lip.

_Fuck, Louis wants to wreck him._

Louis gulps and sits up, covering Harry’s lips with his own and tasting himself on Harry’s tongue. Harry whimpers and pulls Louis closer, shifting where he’s straddling Louis’ hips to cross his legs behind Louis’ back.

“Um,” Louis suddenly says, pulling back from the kiss and sighing as Harry starts pressing his lips against the stubble on Louis’ jaw. “When, uh, people have no control over their actions with you, do they tend to, um…” Louis’ fairly sure he’s never been quite so incoherent in his life, yet Harry still catches on.

“I’d really like it if you fucked me, Lou,” Harry breathes as he strokes his hands up and down Louis’ back. “If that’s okay with you.”

Louis clears his throat. “Um, yeah, of course. Let me just—” Louis gently detangles himself from Harry’s long limbs and shuffles off the bed, rushing out of the room and straight across the hall to their shared bathroom. He roots through his drawer to find the lube and condoms buried under everything else (it’s been a while) before almost running back to where Harry is now stretched out on the bed, fist wrapped loosely around his cock and head thrown back against the pillows.

A groan slips from Louis’ lips as he strides over and moves Harry’s hand away, replacing it with his own as he crawls onto the mattress. Harry whines and squirms at the frustratingly slower pace, his hips jumping a little as he tries to fuck up into Louis’ fist.

Louis holds Harry’s hips down with his free hand and presses a gentle kiss just to the left of his dick. “Slow down, baby. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Harry nods and wordlessly passes over the bottle of lube Louis had dropped on top of the duvet.

With a smirk tilting up on corner of his lips, Louis covers three fingers of one hand in the liquid and shuffles a bit further down Harry’s body, propping up the other boy’s legs so his knees are slightly apart and his feet are flat on the bed.

“Is that comfortable for you, babe?” Louis asks softly, running his lube-free hand up and down Harry’s leg soothingly.

Harry hums and nods in response, a moan rumbling in his throat moments later when the tip of Louis’ finger is inside him. It isn’t long before he starts to move, thrusting down onto Louis’ hand and silently begging for more. He cries out when Louis presses in a second finger and starts to scissor them, his back arching and his toes clenching into the sheets.

“Lou,” he whines after some time, “more, please.”

When Louis’ sure it’s the right move to make, he presses in with a third finger, marvelling at how Harry just takes it, soft moans and breathy whispers breaking through his still-swollen lips.

“I’m ready. Please, Lou, I need you,” Harry begs, his eyes scrunched shut and hair fanned out on the pillow beneath him.

“Okay, baby, shh.” Louis pulls out his fingers and wipes them on the sheets. “I’ve got you; you’re fine.” After rolling on the condom and slicking up his cock, Louis shuffles up onto his knees and leans over Harry, pressing kisses to his cheeks and jaw. “You okay?”

“I will be in a minute,” Harry replies, grinning cheekily and biting Louis’ bottom lip when the older boy leans in to kiss him.

Louis—trying to distract himself from fonding too much over the lovely person laid out in front of him—starts to press in, watching Harry’s face intently for any sign of discomfort, but seeing none. He stops when he’s halfway in, searching Harry’s eyes for something, _anything_ , to tell him to stop.

“Please keep going,” Harry whispers, taking Louis’ hand from the bed into his own and knotting their fingers together. “It’s fine; keep going.”

A sound of pleasure rumbles in Louis’ throat when he bottoms out, and Harry’s mouth wraps around a silent moan.

_He looks beautiful._

Staying completely still, Louis awaits the all-clear from Harry, which comes in the form of the other boy bucking his hips down onto Louis’ cock.

Louis hesitantly starts to move against him, searching for that right angle to make Harry scream. Not that he isn’t already vocal enough, whining and moaning on every thrust.

“Oh God, Louis; _there_!” Harry eventually cries, the muscles in his abs jumping as he gets closer and closer to orgasm.

Louis is starting to struggle to hold his weight above Harry, but gathers up the strength to lean down and kiss him passionately but messily, their tongues meeting between their mouths and bitten-red lips moving together in an uneven rhythm.

“Are you close?” Louis mumbles, his lips still brushing against Harry’s.

“Mhmm...just need you to—”

Louis cuts him off by leaning back and taking the weight off his hands to wrap one of them around Harry’s cock. It only takes a few strokes before Harry is coming over Louis’ fist, clenching around him enough to push him over the edge too.

Louis pulls out as soon as the waves of pleasure pass, tying up the condom and leaning over Harry to drop it into the bin next to the bed. He then flops down on top of the younger boy and wipes his come-covered hand on the tissue Harry hands to him, letting out a heavy sigh.

 

The two of them remain silent for a few minutes, tracing meaningless patterns onto each other’s skin. Louis is eventually the one to break it.

“Do you ever wonder why it doesn’t work on me?”

Harry grabs Louis’ hand which is trailing down his chest and starts playing with his fingers. “I have a few ideas.”

“Like?”

“Nuh uh.” Harry shakes his head, his hair tickling Louis’ cheek. “Not telling.”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Harry sighs. “Fine. Fate.”

“Fate?”

“Fate,” Harry repeats. “Your turn.”

“Fate.”

“ _No_ , that’s not fair,” Harry whines. “You can’t just steal mine!”

“But it’s mine too!” Louis responds in the same tone. “Fate.”

There’s a pause before Harry is saying, “Is fate starting to not sound like a word anymore?”

Louis chuckles and turns his head to press his lips against Harry’s shoulder. “Do you wanna take a nap?”

A huff of breath leaves Harry’s lips. “I ought to start making dinner.”

“Not yet though, right?” Louis pulls the covers over the top of them and snuggles further under Harry’s arm.

There’s a smile in Harry’s voice when he says, “Not yet.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> (If you enjoyed, I would absolutely love it if you left a comment/kudos, or reblogged [this post](http://truthtattoos.tumblr.com/post/114172248773/powerless-and-i-dont-care-by-dontlethimgo) :) Thanks for reading!!)


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